And Then The Earth Stopped
by Darling Pretty
Summary: "Alex died, Dr. Montgomery. Mark and Lexie helped him while the hospital was on lockdown, but there were complications with the surgery." With that news, Addison's world just stops. Addex, promise. Oneshot.


**This is the result of me being ridiculously tired and trying to write late at night. My mind gets morbid late at night. I promise this story is only depressing for like two thirds of the entire thing, and they come first.**

**I own nothing but a ridiculously morbid mind.**

* * *

Addison pours herself a third glass of wine. She concentrates on the steady ruby-red stream from the bottle, the sound of liquid hitting glass, anything but the fact that Dell is dead and Maya was almost dead and her life is, once again, falling apart at the seams.

She's just starting to feel the pleasant warmth of the alcohol creep up from her toes, starting to at least artificially chase away the ice inside, when the phone rings. "Hello?" she asks, picking up on the second ring.

"Addison?"

"Callie?" Addison confirms, even though there's absolutely no chance of her ever mistaking one of her best friends' voice. This time she almost does though. The voice _sounds _like Callie, but it just seems small and broken and scared.

"Y-yeah. Listen, I need to tell you something."

"Okay?"

"Are you sitting down? You should be sitting down."

"Callie, what's going on?"

"No, Addison, I want you to sit down. Just do it, please?"

"Callie, you're scaring me," Addison confides as she does as the orthopedic surgeon asks.

"I have bad news," Callie announces.

"Great," Addison groans under her breath.

"There was this guy. H-he brought a gun to the hospital. He was, um, looking for Derek."

"Oh my God, is he okay?"

"No, no, he's fine," Callie assures her quickly. "Well, not fine. He was shot, but he's going to be fine."

"I'm coming up there," Addison decides.

"Addison, stop. I… I have more bad news."

Addison feels the warmth from the wine draining away. "What?"

"The gunman, he… he didn't just shoot Derek."

"What? Oh my God, is everyone okay?"

"No," Callie says, a hint of annoyance sneaking into her voice. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. People aren't okay."

And there goes the air in Addison's lungs. "Wait, are you okay? And Miranda?"

"We're fine," Callie replies. Her voice is suddenly filled with repentant kindness as she starts to feel badly about her outburst and the next thing she's going to say. "But Alex, um… Karev, he… he was shot too. Only, um… the thing is… I... he…"

"Give me the phone," Cristina's gruff voice comes through the phone as Addison assumes she grabs it away from the stammering Callie. Even her cool, clinical voice isn't devoid of emotion as she says, "Alex died, Dr. Montgomery. Mark and Lexie helped him while the hospital was on lockdown, but there were complications with the surgery."

Addison's entire world just stops.

Callie or maybe Cristina keeps talking but she doesn't hear them. Her brain is shut off and all she can do is shiver. Intuitively, she knows that no matter how strong the sun, how big the fire, how cozy the blanket she'll never feel warm again.

0ooo0

She goes to Dell's funeral. She doesn't cry.

She flies up to Seattle for the funeral. She doesn't cry.

She sees Derek. She doesn't cry.

She's home for a week. She doesn't cry.

Sam tries to get her to react in some way. She doesn't.

Naomi tries to get her to cry. She doesn't.

Sheldon tries to do his shrink-y thing on her. She ignores him.

Pete tries to cheer her up. She can't smile.

Cooper and Charlotte get married. She wishes them the best and stays home.

She has a birthday. She thinks about death.

Everyone sits her down and explains their worry about her. She waves it off.

Life moves on without her. She watches it, unmoved.

Naomi and Callie start thinking about getting her help. She starts feigning signs of life.

The anniversary of his death passes. She locks her doors, turns off her phone, and drinks it away.

The morning after the anniversary of his death comes next. She spends it curled up in the bathroom, contemplating the kitchen knives that are too far away and the medications that would require her to uncurl from the fetal position.

The day after the day after the anniversary of his death roars in. She gets pissed at him for turning her into someone who thinks about kitchen knives and medications and for leaving her at all.

A week passes. She has never hated anyone so much in her entire life.

A month passes. She would give anything to see him one more time.

Another year passes. She pretends she's over it.

She meets a new guy. She hides the fact that she's in love with a dead guy.

Things start to get serious. She continues to hide the fact that she falls asleep with his face in her mind.

He proposes. She says yes and smiles to hide the fact that she's still numb.

She walks down the aisle. She has to keep from shivering.

It's been five years since he died. She calls it a healing day and spends the day drinking.

She and her husband divorce. She isn't surprised.

Years pass and she grows old. She still doesn't feel warm.

She knows she's dying. She misses him and says so.

Mark shows up and finally spills the secret he's been keeping for nearly forty years now, that Alex Karev had spent the last hour of his life repetitively apologizing to her and confessing his love. Forty years later, she finally cries.

0ooo0

She looks around. Things are very, very bright now. "Where am I?" she wonders out loud.

_Dead_ is the answer that comes naturally.

She looks down. She's thirty years old again. Things are where they're supposed to be, her hair is the vibrant red that only nature or a seriously skilled hair-dresser can achieve.

She can feel a smile start to form on her face. She can't remember the last time a smile was genuine.

"Hey." It's been forty years, but his voice still sounds like smirks and rare, special grins and hands stuffed into pockets. And she still recognizes it.

She whirls around and throws herself into his arms. Then she remembers herself and pulls away. "Hey."

"Long time no see," he says awkwardly.

She frowns. "Did you always make awkwardly corny jokes?"

"It something I've picked up around here, I guess," he shrugs.

"Where _is _here exactly, anyways?"

"How should I know?" he shrugs again.

"Um, you've been dead for forty years. That gives you a head start on me!"

"Oh. Yeah. How are you doing with that whole thing by the way?"

"What the being dead thing?"

"No, the other life-altering thing I'd be asking about."

"You're still a pain in the ass. You'd think heaven would have taught you some manners."

"That's not an answer, Addison."

She studies the ground. "I stopped living a long time ago, I think. Now I'm just actually dead."

"You _think _you stopped living. Addison that was one of the most pathetic lives I've ever seen!"

"Ouch!" she exclaims without refuting his statement. "And it's creepy that you watched me."

"I've been dead. What was I supposed to do?"

Her eyes narrow. "Did you watch me while I showered?"

"No!" he exclaims. She stares at him. "Maybe. Once or twice."

"Once or twice? Over forty years? You?"

"This is what you're choosing to talk about right now? Dude, seriously?"

He's just as infuriating as she remembers. She missed him. "Mark visited me," she says with an easy calm.

He seems to freeze. "Yeah?"

"Had some interesting things to say. But, of course, you would know that, since you were watching me and all."

"Addison," he says.

"Yes?"

"About everything. I'm… I'm sorry, okay? I was scared because…"

"Because?" she prompts.

"Because I was pretty sure I was falling in love with you. And I didn't do that. It still freaks me out."

"You think it didn't freak me out? You were my _intern_, for God's sake!"

"I was stupid."

"Yeah, you were," she agrees.

"Sorry."

"You want to hear something stupid?" she asks.

"Sure."

"I don't think I stopped falling."

"Really?"

"Feel like catching me this time?"

An incredible nervousness fills her entire being as she realizes this is the third time she's put herself so blatantly out there and the first two times hadn't gone so hot.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "I should have been smart enough to catch you the first time."

"Yeah, well, you died like three years later. So that would have sucked anyways."

"You don't hate me?"

"Oh no, I do, for about seven thousand different things, but I've got eternity to get over it. And you've got an eternity to make up for it."

He kisses her and warmth radiates from the tip of her toes all the way up. Heaven.

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**Well, I hope you enjoyed it, at least a little!**

**-Juli-**


End file.
